"No matter how much cats fight, there always
seems to be plenty of kittens." - Abraham
Lincoln

Via
Craigslist -

This
morning, I was assaulted by my cat in a way that I wouldn't
wish on my worst enemy.

My kitties and I have a morning routine
that involves saying goodbye before I walk out the door.
I was suited up, ready to go, and I walked over to my dresser
to retrieve my keys. As usual, my male kitty was lounging
on the dresser, waiting for him goodbye scratches. He stood
up to give me my usual nuzzle goodbye, and then the most
unholy of acts took place. The friendly feline stretched,
and the force of his stretch caused his anal glands to express....all
over my face and in my mouth.

Now, a little biology background for those of you who aren't
in the know. Dogs and cats have these glands in their anus
that get expressed, usually when they defecate. The smell
is somewhat akin to rotting bodies that have been dry-rubbed
with gorgonzola cheese and then spit-roasted over a pile
of burning feces. Yum. Plus, like all organic smells, it
tends to bind to fabrics, which makes for a pleasant surprise
when your cat rubs its butt on your sheets or couch. But,
nothing compares to being sprayed full on in the face with
this heinous slime.

At first I thought there was a drip coming from the ceiling.
I looked up, puzzled, and then the smell and taste hit me
like a ton of bricks. I stumbled blindly to the bathroom
shouting, "I've been hit! I've been hit!, puked my breakfast
up, and scrubbed my face, including my tongue, for 10 minutes.
The smell was still there. I called Michele in a panic and
she suggested I called the vet. I threw up again, composed
myself, and made the most embarrassing phone call of my life.

Me: "Um...hi. My cats are patients over by you and uhhh...ok.
This is going to sound crazy. Heh. Never thought I would
make a call like this. Long story short, my cat expressed
his anal glands on my face and I can't get the smell off."

Receptionist:" Hmm. Um. Let me get one of the techs
on the phone for you."

I was then passed along to about 4 people in the office to
explain my story, all the while trying to ignore the howling
laughter in the background. The best they can come up with
is for me to try rubbing vinegar on my face. Desperate, I
try it out. After wincing through the sting and rinsing it
off, I realize that I now smell like a delicious ass salad.
My face rapidly begins to dry out, making my skin feel tight
and itchy. I slap some cream on and scream as the sting intensifies.
Scrub, scrub, wash, wash. More panic ensues, and I hop on
the horn to Michele once again. I need to get to work, but
I can't go out in public smelling like I bathed in eau de
cat-ass, can I?

We decide to pull out the big guns, and my final attack on
the funky face problem is to dab Febreeze on my face with
a cotton swab. Sure, my face is blotchy and itchy from the
chemical warfare it endured, but at least I smell predominantly
like freshly washed laundry with a slight undertone of a
tossed cat ass salad. I am sure all of the odors will wear
off eventually, but the mental anguish of unwanted anal play
is sure to stick with me for a long while.